Tuesday, February 21, 2012

I Heart YA Giveaway Winner!

Congratulations! I will send you an e-mail shortly to get your mailing address (and which title you would like!)

To everyone else: I will be having more giveaways in the future.

I can't believe I'm over 100 followers! It seems like just yesterday I started this blog with the hope of maybe getting a few people here or there to notice my work. And while I'm an avid reader, I'm also a writer.

The next giveaway will be my birthday giveaway in March. I'll have two winners - the first one will win one of a few books. The second will win my first e-short story. (I plan to publish two of them soon, so you'll be able to choose which one you'd like). Exciting, yeah?

And with that being said, I should leave y'all with an excerpt from Rioss:

I paced outside of the room. We were in the front office, the nice looking
one. The one that didn’t have bars on
the outside and blackened windows. I
would have taken the time to bask in what little sunlight I was getting,
but I was too impatient. As much as I
wanted to listen in all my nerves were firing at once, I couldn't focus. What if my parents truly start to believe
that I’m not getting better? What if Dr.
Calhoon convinces them that I’m crazier than I am? Wait, scratch that, what if she actually
convinces them that I am crazy?

It was stress.
They blamed it on the wolves, on me seeing Adam’s throat slit in
half. They blamed it on the way I could
describe the details of the flesh as it bounced on his neck. They blamed the fact that I could describe
the bubbles of blood that ran along the forest floor. They blamed all of it on that one event. Sure, post-traumatic stress existed, but that wasn't it. Adam was still alive. I knew it.

I ground my fingertips into my arm, forcing myself to
calm down. I needed to know
what they were talking about.

Dr. Calhoon laughed.
The cackle was loud enough that even the guard sat up more
straight. He had eaten onions for lunch,
the sweet tanginess of them bubbled out from inside his stomach and escaped his mouth with the souring smell of stomach bile. No, I told myself. Focus on the words, the vibrations in their
vocal cords. Focus.